Tag Archives: writers

In The Telling

Posted on January 23, 2015 by Jim Stewart

My story moves around who’s doing the telling; who’s listening also forms the shape of it. I don’t much care as long as it’s all about me. In the dark, when I cannot see the ceiling, it’s not all about … Continue reading →

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Fishing

Posted on December 31, 2014 by Jim Stewart

A flick of the wrist: the spotted lure sails across the stream and blurps into the shadow under the far bank. The current catches my flash. Another flick of the wrist, gentler this time, and the rod tip aligns the spinner’s … Continue reading →

Posted in Hope, Morning, Oregon, Poem, Writing | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

Siphon

Posted on December 27, 2014 by Jim Stewart

Getting a flow started is not without consequences. You must overcome gravity even as you rely upon it. Avoiding a mouthful of what you cannot swallow is key.   (top: hikearizona.com; bottom: secretsofthefed.com)

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My Hand Moves

Posted on December 16, 2014 by Jim Stewart

My hand moves. A thread tugs my frontal lobes. At the other end, my ancient brain blazes a light like a Christmas star across those hills barely seen. Maybe the thread spans a river, vast and microscopic at the same time, … Continue reading →

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Concentration Face

Posted on December 13, 2014 by Jim Stewart

My concentrating face is a frown. This has always been so. When I am deep in contemplation people who don’t know me assume that I am incalculably sad; they worry over my spirit, not seeing how my deep engagement has … Continue reading →

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Growing On

Posted on December 8, 2014 by Jim Stewart

(Note: this poem is from a writing workshop I took with Kim Stafford: “Daily Writing in the Tradition of William Stafford.” It borrows the form of William Stafford’s poem “Growing Up.”–jrs) I travel in concentric circles, it’s just how I’m … Continue reading →

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Galaxy and Stone

Posted on November 29, 2014 by Jim Stewart

I am a galaxy, I am a stone. I am a truth lying in bone. My emotions run wild, I am colder than ice. My big-hearted angel has paid a great price watching me stumble and helping me fly. The … Continue reading →

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Shadow Crown

Posted on November 3, 2014 by Jim Stewart

My shadow has a corona and baffles me with its otherworldly glow crowning the absence of light. How can this be? The world has rules. Obviously, I do not know them all. The light wavers around the silhouette of my … Continue reading →

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Haiku–Writing Wherever

Posted on November 1, 2014 by Jim Stewart

(Note: you should check out Daniel von der Embse’s blog at writinginairplanes.com. jrs) To write or to nap; my home away from my home: writing in airplanes. Writing this journal wherever I’m traveling: working the home front. (top: pinterest.com; bottom: … Continue reading →

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Clock’s Break

Posted on October 14, 2014 by Jim Stewart

clock watcher present tedium energy spent unwise seating making tea not exercise doors close walls advance frontal lobes echo echo limbic flash danger calls rain silvers locks break lungs pump clock stops (top: moddb.com; Yosemite: sardonycs.net)

Posted in Consciousness, Poem, Slice of Life, Time, Work | Tagged , , | 2 Comments